The Truth About It
Date: Monday, 1st August 2011 @ 03:00:59 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry


Contributed By: philiphemsby

I sit and look out the window
and standing here realise it is late
too late to see the rolling hills yonder
and indeed too late to see all that once was
the years have rolled by
like the rolling hills in fact
the same hills i can no longer behold...
i can no longer hold you
because you've bought the farm
you know, the one with the red barn, and it's miles away


This poem is Copyright © philiphemsby



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